Fireside Confessions

Animated voices and laughter floated across the chilly night air as the Bobwhites lounged around the fire pit that burned near the back of the terrace of Crabapple Farm.  Although the winter snows had melted away, a frosty crispness still lingered in the air.  The trees in the nearby apple orchard, which were stark against the sky a month ago, were now fuzzy with the presence of spring buds. The logs in the fire pit shifted suddenly, sending a geyser of sparks into the indigo  night.  Around the crackling fire, the group of friends sat, blankets across their laps or around their shoulders, hats atop their heads and steaming mugs of hot toddies in their hands. The group, Jim Frayne, Dan Mangan, Diana Lynch, Honey Wheeler, Tad and Trixie Webster, plus Brian and Mart Belden, had unanimously agreed that it was time for a get-together around the fire.

“Whoever suggested having this gaggle around this miniscule inferno certainly deserves my congratulations,” remarked Mart, as slight vapors from his mouth escaped above the flickering flames.

“Yeah,” agreed Trixie as she poked the fire with a stick.  “This is pretty cool.” She giggled.  “No pun intended.”

“Well,” added Honey.  “I, for one, am glad we agreed to do this.  I’ve had enough of sitting at my stupid desk reading legal briefs for Wheeler Enterprise.”

Jim leaned forward.  “Ahh, take heart, little sister.  Your job duties are only just beginning.  Although, to be perfectly honest, I’m glad you decided to head up the philanthropic arm of the company. Makes getting funding for my future endeavors so much easier. That, and the fact you like to help people.” He winked at his sister over his steaming mug.

“Who’d have ever thought we’d all end up where we are,” mused Diana, her violet eyes appearing black in the flickering flames.

“Would you prefer to be positioned next to another being?” asked Mart.

“What?” Diana looked confused for a moment then slapped Mart’s arm.  “Ha! Ha! You’re so funny.  But you guys know what I mean; where we are in our lives now compared to where we thought we’d be when we were younger.”

“I get what you’re saying,” said Trixie.  “Honey and I thought we’d open our own detective agency but we didn’t.”

“Right,” added Honey.  “I went into Wheeler Enterprises and Trixie went into...” She looked at her friend.  “What would you call your career path? Retail management? Television personality?”

Tixie shrugged. “You can call it whatever you want.  But,” she held up her mittened hand, “it all pays pretty well.”

Snuggled next to her, Tad nodded.  “Yep.  And that’s why we can afford a house.  That is, if we actually manage to buy one within the next decade.  But at the rate we’re going, that seems to be a bit doubtful.”

“Doubtful?” asked Dan.  “Why? There seem to be plenty on the market.”

“There are.  But I’m afraid Trixie thinks she needs to check out every single one of them, and when I say check them out, I mean she even pokes through attics, closets, and kitchen cupboards.”

“Perhaps she’s afraid of actually having to gather and package her increasing hoard of belongings so therefore, she successfully manages to delay the inevitable. Who knows what mystification or perplexity lies beneath her bed or in the back of her small vestiary,” said Mart.

“Oh, pft!” Trixie looked at Tad.  “We cleaned out a lot of stuff when you moved in, right?”

“If you say so,” answered Tad.  “I only have your word for it.  Although, my shirts do look a bit more wrinkled now than when I lived in my own apartment.”

“What?” Trixie sat up, her eyes wide in disbelief. “I gave you a lot of closet space. Maybe you aren’t hanging them up correctly.”

“I’m kidding.” Tad pulled her back in the chair and rearranged the blanket across their knees.  “After all, what are a few wrinkled shirts?”

The group chuckled, shifted comfortably in their chairs and sipped at their steaming mugs.  

Diana broke the cozy silence. “I just have to tell you guys, my students are so cute. I  overheard one little boy in my art class saying he was going to be a professional baseball player when he grew up.  But during the off season, he was going to work in his dad’s accounting office.”  She shook her head and laughed softly.  “I love the naivety of little kids, don’t you?”

“They definitely are cute,” agreed Honey. She gazed up at the clear, starry sky overhead.  “Isn’t this just a perfectly perfect night.  I couldn’t imagine a better evening.

Diana snuggled against Mart.  “I agree, Honey.  We grow accustomed to the dark, when the light is put away.”

Mart looked at her in surprise. “That’s a rather poetic statement, don’t you think?”

Diana shrugged.  “What can I say?  I’m having the class do watercolors to illustrate a poem I read to them and that line is in the poem.”

“Ooh,” exclaimed Honey. “I love watercolors. They always seem so dreamy.”

Dan nudged Tad in the ribs. “Speaking of dreaming, I wish I had been dreaming when I saw the final score of the baseball game the other night.  Sheesh!” He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“I know,” answered Tad.  “The whole thing was a nightmare.”

“Nightmare!” Trixie rolled her eyes.  “I know for a fact that Tad fell asleep during the fourth inning.  The only game he saw was in his dreams and I assume he was the star of that game.”

The group’s laughter eclipsed any response Tad might have. Jim stomped his feet and then cleared his throat. “But piggy-backing on Diana’s earlier statement about where we’ve all ended up, childhood dreams are funny things.  I bet we all had dreams when we were kids that never seemed out of reach or too impractical, but were created to fill an exact longing at that point in our childhood.  And I bet some of those dreams still reside deep within us.”

Honey sat up.  “I don’t have to cling to my dreams because they came true.  I always dreamed of being part of a secret club and that happened. And then I got a brother.  So there!” She sat back in her chair and gave a brisk nod to Jim.

“Yeah,” chimed Mart. “and Brian is in medical school and you’re working towards launching your own school.  More dreams that came true.”

Jim held up his hands to quiet the chorus that followed. “Not those dreams.  The other dreams.  The ones we probably never told anybody or maybe never even acknowledged to ourselves, but they were important to us.”

“Where did that come from?” asked Brian.

Jim shrugged sheepishly. “We were studying the unconscious in my psych class.  It just made me think, that’s all.”

“So your theory, Jim,” Trixie poked at the fire again. “Is that we all have a secret dream within us that we continue to carry even when we’re grown up and it still may influence our lives?”

Jim nodded.  “Pretty much. After all, who hasn’t sung into a spoon or a hairbrush?”

“I get it,” answered Brian.  “Like when I always knew I’d be a doctor.  That was my childhood dream.”

Mart, who had been sitting silently in the dark, cocked his head slightly, narrowed his eyes and studied his brother.  “Wait a minute.  Are you sure?”

Brian’s mug paused halfway to his mouth.  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think I get what Jim’s talking about. And,” smirked Mart. “as I sit here, I realize that you may have had an alternative dream when you were younger.”

“Really? Please, tell me.  Or to say it in ‘Mart-ese’, elaborate on your hypothesis.”

“Okay.  Try this on for size.  I’m of the opinion that you dreamed about being something other than a doctor.” Mart tapped his steepled fingers together as he spoke. “After all, you kept a binder hidden under your bed full of some pretty detailed and interesting pictures.”

“What?” gasped Honey.

Shaking his head, Brian stared at the ground, then, after a long and audible sigh, looked around at his friends.  “Okay, fine.  There was something else I dreamed of doing. And the pictures aren’t what you’re thinking, Honey.  They were pictures of cars, specifically, race cars.”

“I don’t get it,” said Honey.

“I wanted to be a race car driver,” confessed Brian.

“A what?” she asked, choking on her beverage.

“I think you guys heard me.  Yes, There was a brief time when I really wanted to be a racecar driver.”

Dan shook his head.  “How does that even mesh with the ‘safety conscious, don’t go over the speed limit, and always use your lights if it’s raining’ man you are now?”

Brian grinned.  “It’s not that difficult.  I always loved cars.  You guys remember how I felt about my first jalopy.  I thought if I was a racecar driver, I’d work on my car, keep her tuned up and we’d win all these races together.” Brian toed the hard dirt under his boot.  “In fact, when I’m really wired from work, I relax by watching Nascar or some other similar race.”

Trixie scratched her head.  “Nascar! How do you keep from getting dizzy as you watch those cars go around and around and around?”

Brian grinned.  “I don’t watch it that closely.  But it does relax me.”

Jim nodded.  “I suppose I can see that.  Yeah, it makes sense.” He looked around the circle.  “Anybody else have a secret dream they want to share?”

Diana sat forward.  “I know you guys will never in a thousand years guess what I wanted to be when I was a kid.”

“An artist?” suggested Mart.

Diana shook her head.  “No.”

“A teacher?” asked Honey

“No.”

“I know,” Trixie sang out.  “You wanted to be an interior decorator.”

Again, Diana shook her head.

“Then what?” asked Jim.

“I wanted to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut?” echoed the group, disbelief evident in their voices.

“That, my love,” said Mart.  “Is going to necessitate a humongous and lengthy explanation.”

Diana grinned, pausing a moment before speaking.  “It’s not really that hard.  My parents always said I had my head in the clouds so I thought, why not?  I could be an astronaut and see where everybody said I was.”

“Interesting,” said Mart.  “You were correct, Diana.  We would never have guessed that. Is that why you’re always so excited when there is some kind of rocket launch?”

“Yes,” replied Diana. “And when they lift off, I get goosebumps. And to this day, I love flying.  I’m always ready to go wherever a plane will take me.”

The group then reminisced about the first flight they had taken together, a flight to Arizona at Christmas time.  Trixie pointed out Diana’s interest at that time of being a flight attendant.  

“And now I’m an art teacher,” said Diana.  “But since you guys brought up space travel, I think I’ll have the students do some drawings of what they think outer space looks like.”  She laughed to herself.  “At least I’ll get my space fix that way.”

“As long as you keep your feet here on the ground with me, my love,” murmured Mart as he nuzzled her neck.

“Ew,” groaned Trixie.  “I heard that.”

Brian fetched the large thermos and walked around the group, offering refills to whoever wanted one. Then, after dropping a fresh log onto the fire he sat back down in his chair and covered his legs with a black and white buffalo plaid blanket.

“So, Mart,” he said.  “What is it you wanted to be? A thesaurus? A dictionary author?”

Mart grinned and stood up. “No.”  Bowing to the group, he grabbed a nearby stick and spoke into it, as if it were a microphone.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.  Thank you for joining us tonight on Jeopardy!.  Now, let’s meet our contestants.”  He sat back down.

“You wanted to host Jeopardy!?” asked Diana in a shocked voice.  “You wanted to be the Alex Trebek of Sleepyside? Why? Those questions are hard.  I always feel bad when the contestants can’t answer them and just stand there staring at their hands.”

“But why, oh why, did you want Alex Trebek’s job?” moaned Trixie.

“Because,” explained Mart.  “As the host, I would have access to all the answers and get to announce them to the audience.  I always thought that would be so much fun.  And of course, I would get to award the prizes but still…I would be the smart one.”

Trixie took off her hat, ran her hand through her flattened curls, then replaced it.  “Gleeps! Mart and Jeopardy!. Is that why you were always watching it? So you could see how to host it?”

“Yep,” grinned Mart.  “I studied that show almost more than my spelling words.” He chuckled aloud.  “And I also remember pestering Moms to buy me a sports coat and some really nice ties.”

“And did she?” demanded Trixie.

“Of course not,” replied Mart.  “But she did get me some practical boots to wear when I had to clean out the chicken coop.”  He pretended to stab himself in the stomach.  “Ugh! The pain I endured wearing those boots instead of nice ties.”

Trixie sniffed.  “Well, thank goodness that dream didn’t come true.  Can you imagine if Mart knew all the answers to the Jeopardy! questions?”

“It’s bad enough that he makes us watch it every night,” commented Diana.

Mart fixed Trixie with a penetrating stare. “Okay, younger sibling. If my nighttime reverie was so challenging, what was your dream occupation?”

She shrugged.  “That’s easy. I wanted to be a detective.  Duh! Everybody knows that.”

Tad leaned in close to her.  “Really?  Because while I’ve been listening to the others, I began to  suspect you had another dream occupation in mind when you were little. I’ve put the pieces together and have come up with a pretty interesting picture.   You’re not the only detective around here, you know.”

Trixie’s head snapped around.  “What?  What is this interesting picture you’ve come up with?”

“Tks! Tsk!” clucked Tad.  “Don’t make me spill the beans.” He nodded his head toward the group. “You tell them.”

Trixie folded her arms across her chest.  “I don’t have anything to tell.  I think you put your pieces together wrong.”

“You sure about that?” Tad grinned wickedly. “Let’s review the evidence, shall we? One: You’re nosy and like to pry.  Two: You like to know what’s going on in other people’s lives. Three: We’ve looked at almost fifty houses in which you have checked out every nook and cranny, not to mention cabinets and cubbies. For all I know, you may have done a quick search through the homeowners’ mail.  Ergo, does the word “realtor” bring anything to mind,  Ms. Belden-Webster?”

“Realtor!” exclaimed Honey.  “Trixie, you’ve got to be kidding.”

Trixie, her face made even rosier by the firelight, winced.  “Oh, yeah, I kinda forgot about that.”

“A realtor? Why did you want to be a realtor?” asked Brian.  “And how did you ever stumble onto that dream anyway?”

Trixie nervously played with a loose thread on one of her mittens.  “I wouldn't exactly call it a dream but I did figure out it could get me what I wanted.” She paused and took a quick sip from her mug. “See, when I was in first grade, I hung out with Macie and her mom was a realtor.  Sometimes, we’d ride along when her mom had to show a house.  We’d wait in the car, of course.  But while sitting there, I could see Macie’s mom showing people all the ins and outs of the house.  And I became curious. I wanted to get into that house and see what the people were like and how they lived and stuff like that.  It really got pretty bad when all I wanted to do was ride along with Macie’s mom when she had a showing. So I thought if I was a realtor I could do that to my heart’s content and get into everybody’s house.”

Diana nodded.  “Yeah, that definitely sounds like you.” She giggled.  “But a realtor, Trixie?  That’s  too much. You do know you’d have to drive around with a big sign on the side of your car, don’t you?”

Trixie exhaled loudly and pulled her hat further down on her head.

“And,” added Tad. “Judging by the number of houses we’ve looked at, I think Trixie is reliving this childhood dream.”

Trixie pinched Tad’s lip together to quiet him. Then after taking a sip of her hot toddy, she pulled the blanket close to her chin and shrugged.  “It’s just so much fun to see how other people live.”

“Trixie, the Realtor,” giggled Honey.

“Okay, Miss Wheeler,” Trixie demanded.  “What was your secret wish?”

Honey fell silent.  “I’m not sure I had one.”

“That means you definitely had one,” challenged Trixie.

“So if Trixie wanted to be a realtor, what is it you wanted to be?  An appraiser?” teased Mart.

“An appraiser?” Honey rolled her eyes.  “Please, Mart.  That would be so awful.  Numbers and more numbers.  No, I wanted to be a…a….”

“Go on,” encouraged Dan.

“I wanted to be a bicycle courier in New York. There, I said it.”

But instead of hearing laughter or teasing, the group all nodded in agreement.

“I could see that,” said Trixie.  “Especially since you were so gaga over learning how to ride a bike when you first moved here.  But really, Honey, riding a bike in New York City seems kind of dangerous to me.”

Honey sighed.  “I suppose so.  But, one day, I was riding in the limousine and a bicycle courier rode up beside me, then turned the corner and took off.  It was a young girl and her hair was flying behind her and she just seemed so… so…” She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Carefree and happy.  She didn’t seem to have any worries. And I’m pretty sure she didn’t have to think about what fork to use at her next luncheon or what scratchy petticoat she would have to wear under her dress when she went to a formal engagement. In my opinion, she was totally free of all those bothersome society rules and regulations.”

“Regulations?” Mart arched a sandy brow.  “That seems a bit strong to my hearing organs.”

Honey frowned at Mart.  “You know exactly what I mean so just shush, Martin Belden.””

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, offering Honey a mock salute.

Brian leaned down and dug through the basket that sat next to his chair.  He pulled out a box of graham crackers, several chocolate bars and a bag of marshmallows plus several roasting sticks.

“Anybody interested in a s’more or two?” he asked as he began passing the bag of marshmallows around the circle.

The group eagerly dug into the various packages, some opting to eat their marshmallows immediately while others took the time to roast theirs.

“Okay,” said Mart, after swallowing two charred marshmallows. “Who’s next?” He turned to a Bobwhite sitting next to him.  “You’re up, Dan.  What is it you really wanted to do?”

A sly grin crossed Dan’s handsome face.  “You’re not going to believe my dream either.”

“Try us,” said Trixie.

“I wanted to be a circus clown.” He looked at the group’s shocked faces.

“A circus clown?” questioned Mart.  “How? Where? What?”

Dan shook his head.  “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Explain,” ordered Jim.

Dan sighed.  “When I was little, my mom took me to a circus. I had never seen a clown before and I remember thinking they were so funny,  Plus they got to ride in a silly little car. The crowd seemed to love them as well as their antics. There was this one clown who was walking an imaginary dog and another one made weird balloon animals.” He shrugged. “ Well, what city boy wouldn’t want to run away and join the circus as a clown? Is that so wrong?”

“No,” said Brian slowly.  “Not wrong.  But so, so unlike the Dan we now know.”

Dan sipped his drink.  “And, to add more juice to my story, do you guys remember that skating show we put on when we were younger, you know, the one to benefit earthquake victims in Mexico?”

“Of course we do,” answered Honey.

“Well, I was a bit jealous of Bobby that night.”

“Bobby? Why?” demanded Diana.

Trixie snapped her fingers.  “I know why. You wanted to wear a clown costume too. Right?”

Dan nodded.  “Guilty.”

Honey sat up.  “I know. We could do another skating benefit next winter and you could be a clown.  How cool would that be?”

Dan shook his head.  “Not very.  At least not for the resource officer at Sleepyside High.”

“Oh, yeah,” replied Honey. “I guess that wouldn’t work for you now.”

“But,” Dan exhaled slowly, “I have been watching Youtube videos on how to make balloon animals.  I thought that particular art might come in handy if I come across a few kids who are relutant to open up to me.”

“That might actually work,” said Honey as she drained her mug then held it out for a refill.  Brian obliged, then she sat back and sipped her steaming toddy.  

“We certainly had some interesting ambitions or, maybe more correctly, little dreams.  Not that our dreams are little, but, well, you guys know what I mean.” Honey took another sip from her mug.

“Whoa!” Mart held his hands up in the air.  “There is nothing small about my dream.  Trixie’s, yes.”

Trixie threw off her blanket and stood up.  “Excuse me, Mr. Trebek-wanna-be.  At least my dream was more likely to come true than yours.”

“Oh, yeah,” argued Mart.  “Do you know how much math is involved in calculating mortgage payments?”

Trixie sat back down.  “Actually, I never thought about the math part.  It was all about getting into people’s houses.”

“So now it’s Tad’s turn,” announced Mart.  “Let’s hear it.  What was your secret dream? Perhaps a designer?”

“A designer?” puzzled Tad.

“Yeah.  You know, cause you always like to see the threads on your leather, that is, your leather baseball.” Mart slapped his knee and laughed loudly.

The rest of the group groaned in unison.

“That wasn’t even close to being funny,” said Brian.

“If that’s the best you’ve got,” added Trixie.  “Then it’s a good thing you didn’t get a job hosting Jeopardy!.  You would have been canceled after one show.”

Mart rolled his eyes at his sister.  “Come on, Tad.  Time to fess up.”

Tad took off his hat and scratched at his head.  “Fine.  But you guys already know what I wanted to be.  A ballplayer.”

Mart shook his head.  “Baseball is one of your passions, but I believe there is more to you.  And if you won’t tell, then I will.”

Brian stared at his brother.  “What is it with you?  Do you go snooping through people's possessions in order to find out their secrets? I thought that was Trixie’s job.”

“Hey!” protested Trixie.  

Mart tossed his scarf over his shoulder.  “Snooping? Of course not.  But can I help it if I find things when I’m looking for, say a DVD in the back of the television cabinet?” He eyed Tad.  “Go on, Webster.”

Trixie turned in her seat.  “Yes, go on.  I’m dying to find out your secret dream.”

“I already told you.  I wanted to be a ball player.”

“No Tad,” argued Trixie.  “What else did you want to be?”

Tad hesitated.  “I can’t answer.  It’s too embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than Alex Trebek or a clown or any of the other dreams?” Trixie queried. “Come on, what did you want to be?  A porn star?”

Tad offered Trixie a look of disbelief.  “No.”

“A politician?” guessed Diana.

“Hmm,” Tad stroked his chin.  “Do you think I could do that?”

“No,” said Trixie.  “Now fess up!  I’m dying to find out your secret dream.”

“I already told you.  I wanted to be a ball player.”

“No Tad,” argued Trixie.  “I suspect there is something else you wanted to be.”

Hesitating, Tad sat and tugged at his bottom lip.

“Tad,” added Mart.  “Will you tell them or shall I?”

Tad exhaled loudly.  “Fine.  I wanted to be a Ghostbuster.”

There was a momentary silence, then the group burst out laughing.  

“Hey!” yelled Tad indignantly. “I don’t remember anybody laughing at Alex Trebek or Mr. Nascar.”

“Yea, but, those things were real,” grinned Trixie.  She took Tad’s hand.  “But I guess I know who I’m going to call if there's something strange in the neighborhood.”

“Tad,” said Honey.  “Why did you want to be a Ghostbuster?”

“I really liked  those movies,” Tad answered.  “And when I say I really liked them, I really, really liked them. And they had that cool ambulance and those proton packs and…and… they had cool names and….they were just beyond cool.”

“Cool?” echoed Trixie.  “I shudder to think who I suddenly find myself married to.”

Nodding, Tad continued, “I had a Ghostbuster costume that I had worn for Halloween and I loved it so much that I continued to wear it long afterwards.  It drove my mother crazy and I would throw a tantrum if I couldn’t wear it.  And of course, I always had my proton pack on my back.”

Beside him, Trixie shook her head sadly.  “No words.  There are simply no words.”

“It’s a good thing you outgrew that costume,” said Mart.  

“I didn’t.  It wore out and my mom refused to buy me another one.  Probably the happiest day of her life was the day she threw that costume in the trash.”

“Thank God for small favors,” whispered Trixie as she glanced up at the star-lit sky.

“Oh,” exclaimed Diana.  “You would make such a handsome Ghostbuster and I bet I could find an adult costume online.”

“Really?”  Tad's eyes sparkled in the firelight.

Beside him, Trixie gulped her hot toddy then shook her head.  “No. Just no.” She held out her mug. “I definitely need more.”

While Brian refilled Trixie’s mug, Mart slid some marshmallows onto a stick and thrust them into the flames, immediately igniting them.  After blowing them out, he stuffed them into his mouth.  

“Delish,” he declared.  “Who’s next?”

“Jimbo,” announced Dan, turning in his chair to face his friend.  “Go on, Jim, you’re up!”

Jim sat silent, staring into the flames.  

“And…” Diana made a circular movement with her hand.  “When I was little, I wanted to be…”

Jim inhaled loudly.  “When I was little, I wanted to be …a waterslide tester.”

“But that sounds a bit risky and need I remind you that you don’t take unnecessary risks. You’re kind of anal about that,” exclaimed Honey.  Then she slapped a mittened hand over her mouth.  “I’m sorry.  That was rude.”

Jim looked at her.  “That’s okay.  Some bicycle couriers just can’t help themselves.”

“Touche.” replied Honey.  “So, Jim. A waterslide tester? Really?”

“Yeah,” he ducked his head down.  

Trixie cleared her throat.  “So, what exactly is a waterslide tester and what do they do?”

“The title pretty much defines the job. Basically, if there are concerns about a waterslide or they need to know how much time it takes to traverse the slide, then that’s where the tester comes in.”

“Hmm.” Dan studied the crackling fire.  

“Yeah,” Jim continued.  “My Dad took me to a water park when I was young and let me ride on his lap down a big slide.  I loved every second of it.”

“Sounds like the job could be a bit tough in the colder months,”  concluded Dan, his head cocked to one side. “You’d have to wear sweatpants under your swim trunks.”

“Very funny,” replied Jim.  “But sadly, this job is not full-time, basically 6 months of the year.”

“Did you have plans for the rest of the year?” asked Diana.

“Well, I thought, at the time, that I could be a singer.”

“A singer? Explanation required,” demanded  Dan.

Jim shrugged.  “There’s not much to explain. My mother loved crooners. She would constantly be playing those types of records and singing along.  That was when times were good.  After my Dad died, she stopped playing the records so I decided I could make her happy by singing  those songs to her. I eventually thought that I could even make a few recordings.”

“Uh, Jim,” said Dan.  “Have you heard yourself sing, not that I’m trying to dispel your secret and innermost hope.”

Jim grimaced.  “Yeah.  But, nobody can hear me in the shower so that’s my preferred stage these days.”

Brian rubbed his forehead.  “Don’t remind me of those noises that came from the shower when we were roommates. Egad!”

The group murmured their agreement then sipped at their mugs.

Mart adjusted the scarf that was wrapped around his neck.  “I can envision Tad as a Ghostbuster and maybe Brian as a race car driver.” He paused.  “No, I can’t see Brian doing anything that is even remotely lacking in safety.  But Jim, a waterslide tester and singer?  I just can’t envision that particular dream at all.”

“Oh, yeah?” challenged Jim.

He tossed aside the blanket that was draped across his legs and stood up.  His head bobbed side to side and his hips began to sway under his heavy coat.  Then he sang,”Feelings.  Nothing more than feelings…”

“Okay! Okay!” yelled the group.  “You’re a singer.”

“Sit!” directed Dan.  “The curtain just came down on your act. What would you have done if you’d had a hairbrush in your hand? Sheesh!”

Laughing, Jim collapsed in his chair. He pulled off his cap and ran his hand through his hair, causing it to stick out in all directions. “Yeah, I think I’ll stick with my day job.”

“Thank goodness,” remarked Honey, who again slapped her mittened hand over her mouth.  “Honestly, I don’t know what has gotten into me.

“Maybe it’s the two hot toddies you’ve had tonight,” suggested Brian.

Honey shrugged.  “Maybe.  Makes sense.” She looked at Jim.  “Carry on.”

Jim shook his head.  “No, I’m done.  But my singing career was fun while it lasted. And,” he toasted the group with his steaming mug. “at least my dream came true, if only for a nano-second.”

Dan nodded,  “A nano-second is basically what we could tolerate.”

Mart drained his mug.  “Well, we certainly learned more about each other than we have over the last decade.”

“See what I mean?” asked Diana.  “Kids have really cool but funny goals.  And, if I can be an astronaut, then Jim can certainly be a singer slash waterslide tester.”

Mart sulked a bit.  “What about me?  Don’t you think I could be the host of Jeopardy!?”  He thrust his chin toward the firelight and tried to look serious.

“Oh, no, Sweetie.” Diana patted Mart’s thigh.  “I don’t think any one of us could tolerate you as the Alex Trebek of Sleepyside.  Besides, you still don’t have a nice selection of ties.”

Mart hiccupped. “True.”

Diana squeezed his hand.  “Tell you what, you watch the show and I’ll let you ask me some of the questions afterwards.  How does that sound?”

“Okay.  But I’ll tell you the answers in advance.”  He kissed Diana quickly. “I want my Diana to be the smartest contestant on the stage.”

Tad turned to Trixie, a hopeful look on his face. “So, if I find a Ghostbuster suit, will you let me wear it?”

Trixie, lips pursed, shook her head.  “Again, no.  Just no.”

“So to recap my theory,” said Jim.  Let’s review what we know: Brian still watches Nascar, Honey loves bike-riding, Dan is watching videos on how to make balloon animals, Trixie is checking out every single house in town, Mart is a rabid Jeopardy! fan and Diana loves watching rockets blast off and I still sing in the shower. Is that about it?”

“What about Tad?” demanded Honey.

“Oh yeah!” answered Jim.  “Hmmm.”

Trixie gasped and sat up straight.  “Tad has the Ghostbuster logo on the back of his office door.” She turned to her husband and pointed an accusing finger at him.  “I bet you pretend you are working at the Ghostbuster headquarters, right?”

Tad shrugged.  “Maybe.  But if you let me get an adult Ghostbuster costume, I’ll tell you.”

Trixie shook her head.  “Same answer as before:  No!”

Suddenly, Honey, who was snuggled down in her chair let out a huge yawn without even bothering to cover her mouth.  In response, Trixie yawned then Brian.

“I hate to say it,” said Brian, “but I think this evening is drawing to a close.  It certainly was an epic one.”

“Agreed!” replied Honey as she drained her mug.

“Honey, can I give you a ride home?” asked Brian.

Honey grinned.  “If you want to drive me up the hill to the Manor House, have at it.  That’s where I’m staying tonight.”

“Consider it done,” smiled Brian.

Honey held up a leather gloved index finger.  “But no racing.”

“Deal.”

“What about the fire?” asked Jim.  “We can’t leave it.”

“That’s easy,” said Dan. He cleared his throat, then spoke in an authoritative tone. “This person safely put out the fire in the firepit after the Bobwhite get-together.”

Trixie raised her hand and jumped up and down.  “I know. I know.” She stood up and pulled back her shoulders.  “Alex, the answer is ‘who is Mart Belden?’”

“Ding. Ding. Ding,” grinned Dan.  “You are correct.” Dan stood up and shook out his blanket and folded up his chair.  “Night, all.”

Whistling the Ghostbuster song, he disappeared down the dark path that led to the old cabin in the woods where he lived. The rest of the Bobwhites packed up their own blankets and chairs and left the cozy circle that had been the setting for that evening.  Mart carefully doused the fire and any remaining embers.

“Who is Mart Belden?” he grumbled.  “As if I would be the answer on the show I was hosting.  Those Bobwhites don’t know anything.  But then again, what can one expect from a Ghostbuster, a waterslide tester slash singer, a realtor, a Nascar driver, a bicycle courier,  or a clown?” He paused.  “But I know if I were the Alex Trebek of Sleepyside,  the astronaut would be my number one fan!”

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Author's notes: Thank you to the original author of the Trixie Belden mysteries.  She certainly is an enduring character.  Also, thank you to all who read and to all who comment.  Additionally, thank you to my two editors: Katie and Judith.  Their input really adds to my stories.

“We grow accustomed to the dark, when the light is put away” is a line from a poew by Emily Dickinson titled We Grow Accustomed to the Dark.

Nascar - National Association of Stock Car Racing.

Jeopardy! -a classic tv game show with a unique twist.

Alex Trebek - host of the Jeopardy show for 37 seasons.

Ghostbuster - a 1984 American supernatural comedy film about 3 men who work at getting rid of evil spirits and ghosts.

Youtube - An American online video sharing platform.

Feelings - song by Morris Albert, released in 1974

Fire picture - me!

And a special "thank you" to Mary N. for all her tech support!

Word count- 5701

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